


Paintings

by pastelfeathers



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: IgNoct, Igtis, M/M, Noctis is the best painter in Lucis, One-Shot, Pre-Slash, Sugary sweet, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3802129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelfeathers/pseuds/pastelfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he slowly walks through the elegantly decorated hallway leading to the ballroom, Ignis tries to wrap his head around the fact that someone has painted him.<br/>The most accurate ones are the paintings of his childhood days. The ones depicting him in his teenage years are slightly off, though it's still undeniably him.<br/>Ignis doesn't understand.<br/>He knows he's fairly attractive, but this-<br/>This is both flattering and creepy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paintings

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following prompt:
> 
> "Person A is a painter who fell in love with Person B, but they are separated in some kind of disaster and Person B believes Person A to be dead. Years later, Person B attends an art show and discovers most of the art contains paintings of a person who looks exactly like them. It turns out that Person A survived, but lost their memory and has done nothing but paint pictures of Person B ever since in an effort to remember them."
> 
> Didn't really conform completely to the prompt but I followed the basic idea. :)
> 
> Edit: Much thanks to FlOrangey for the correction of Noctis' eye colour! <3

Ignis is five when he meets Noctis for the first time.

He has been dreading the meeting with the young prince of Lucis. Pre-conceived notions spun from half-heard whispers of the boy floated distractingly in his mind, and Ignis startles when the heavy oak doors opens to reveal a normal looking boy, just slightly shorter than him.

Manners ingrained into him from countless decorum lessons makes him bow before he realizes he has to do so. "Your Highness."

"Oh," says the other boy.

Ignis refrains from frowning, but just barely, at the lack of interest in the tone. Still, etiquette makes him keep his head down and his tongue in check. "My name is Ignis Stupeo-"

"You sound funny."

"I do not!" Ignis responds indignantly before he can stop himself, lifting his head to pin the prince with an offended glare.

"Yes you do," says the other calmly, in a matter of fact tone that rubs Ignis the wrong way. The boy pauses in a considering manner, "I like it though."

Ignis presses his lips together in surprise, having been ready to defend his speech and enunciation. "Thank you, your Highness."

"My name is Noctis," the boy says and smiles.

Ignis can only stare as the smile lights up Noctis' eyes.

\---

Their friendship does not come easily.

The two of them are too different in too many ways. It doesn't help that Ignis can never really forget that Noctis is the _crown prince of Lucis_ and as a result, cannot bring himself to act casually around the other.

But as the days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, it became easier and easier to think of Noctis as just a boy.

A boy with a surprisingly sweet smile and brilliant blue eyes.

Tentatively, Ignis begins to think that being this boy's advisor may not be the worst fate.

Not if he is able to see that smile more often.

\---

Noctis' accident is a harbinger of change, not only for the prince but for Ignis as well.

Ignis is deemed unsuitable as a potential advisor, having failed in his duties to keep a careful and vigilant watch over the young prince. He is to be replaced by another brilliant youngster while the prince is recuperating.

The quick and quiet dismissal stings at Ignis' pride and the speed with which his replacement is found makes Ignis wonder if perhaps they had been expecting him to fail from the start. But what really pains Ignis is the knowledge that he had failed Noctis in allowing his friend to be injured so severely.

So Ignis wallows in shame and guilt. He can't decide if he is pleased or upset when he is diplomatically ushered out before he has an opportunity to bid farewell to Noctis.

He doesn't know if he could have faced those expressive blue eyes.

\---

Years later, Ignis still sometimes wonders what might have been if he protested and asked to remain by Noctis' side with promises of protecting the prince better in the future.

He wonders what Noctis would have said if he pled his case personally.

But most of the time, Ignis simply spends his time acting as an advisor to the Duke LaFrabane and keeping a careful tab on the murmurs of the court from his study. He doesn't attend too many social events, still can't look at Noctis without feeling a pang of remorse in his heart, so instead he relies on his network of connections to keep him abreast of the current gossip.

It's in this manner that he learns of Noctis' new advisor, the prodigy son from an affluent mercantile family. He is told tales of Noctis' new bodyguard, the eldest son of the Amicitia family. And eventually, Ignis is introduced to stories of Noctis' new friend, a commoner by the name of Prompto. He hears of their misadventures and makes mental notes on the prince's progress in his lessons and his training.

Ignis listens to his informants.

He doesn’t think about the fact that Noctis never tried to reach out to him in all of these years.

He mostly succeeds.

\---

Noctis' coming of age celebration has been in the grapevine for months.

Ignis considers what he knows of the young prince and commissions a beautifully crafted broadsword from a master blacksmith in the West.

He pays an exorbitant amount of money for the damned thing and has the Caelum family crest engraved into the hilt on a whim. He has the gift wrapped in a plain red cloth and signs the card with a simple "Happy Birthday Your Highness".

Ignis doesn't sign his name and doesn't attend the party.

He requests the Duke to bring the sword to the event on Ignis' behalf. The older gentleman gives the wrapped present a quick glance and nods, though Ignis can see the unvoiced questions in his eyes.

He pretends he's tired and retires early.

\---

"Ignis," greets the Duke the next morning.

Ignis pauses at the door to the study. There is something strange about the way the Duke had said his name, though he couldn't quite place what it is. He cautiously peeks at the Duke's wife, who gives him a pleasant smile, before returning the Duke's greeting warily.

"Have you seen the news footage regarding the young prince's celebration?" inquires the Duke.

Ignis shakes his head. He had, in fact, stubbornly avoided the news this morning. After a pause, Ignis asks haltingly, "did something of importance occur last night?"

His informant had nothing major to report, just the typical assortment of affairs and upcoming business ventures she usually ferreted out of unsuspecting nobles. _Though,_ Ignis frowns slightly, _she had been smirking quite a bit during the debrief._

"No," the Duke says reassuringly, then, pausing to exchange a look with his wife that Ignis did not understand, "but I may require you assistance this morning."

Ignis nods, and when the Duke did not continue, prompts politely, "how can I be of assistance to you?"

"I seem to have misplaced my pocket watch last night," says the Duke, and an uncomfortable feeling of trepidation begins to churn Ignis' stomach. "Could you retrieve it?"

"Sir," Ignis demurs, "may I suggest asking one of the messengers to-"

He stops when the Duke's gaze hardens and mentally takes a deep breath. "I apologize, I would be happy to help retrieve your pocket watch."

\---

Ignis fidgets on the ride over to the Center of Arts where Noctis' celebration had been held.

The Duke's actions were highly suspicious, as was the Duke's wife's insistence on ensuring Ignis was dressed "properly". Now, sitting in the Duke's private car in his best suit, Ignis taps his fingers nervously against the car door.

He ignores the urge to check the news.

Ignis is certain that this sudden excursion is related somehow to last night's event, but he's also certain that if he understands why, he won't be able to go through with the task.

So he sits and he waits.

\---

Ignis is astounded to find that someone had painted canvas after canvas of him after entering the Center of Arts. He suddenly understands the look of surprise that flashed over the admission attendant's face at the sight of him and the odd behaviour of his employers earlier this morning.

As he slowly walks through the elegantly decorated hallway leading to the ballroom, Ignis tries to wrap his head around the fact that someone has painted him.

The most accurate ones are the paintings of his childhood days. The ones depicting him in his teenage years are slightly off, though it's still undeniably him.

Ignis doesn't understand.

He knows he's fairly attractive, but this-

This is both flattering and creepy.

Ignis frowns when he realizes the paintings are hung without any explanation or any indication of the painter's name. He is turning to leave, the whole issue of the pocket watch be damned, when he sees the painting.

It's small, with bright splashes of warm colours against a cheerful blue sky. In the center, two small figures are playing in the palatial gardens. The one with the slightly more serious face is him, Ignis notes absently.

The other is Noctis.

He stares at the painting, at a loss for words.

Noctis is smiling in the painting, the carefree smile that Ignis only got to see in the later stage of their friendship. He reaches out to the canvas, his fingers tracing the painted smile with a gentleness he didn't anticipate of himself. He figures that the curators could forgive him for this small transgression and suppresses a sigh.

Years later, Ignis is frustrated to realize he still misses Lucis' young prince.

\---

"May I ask who is the painter responsible for this exhibit?" Ignis carefully inquires when he reaches the end of the exhibit. The docent standing by spares him a quick glance, then does a double take and gapes.

Ignis clears his throat politely.

"Oh!" the girl exclaims, "I'm sorry, that is, the painter is the prince, sir."

"The _prince_."

The docent seems to pick up on his disbelief and nods, "yes, the prince was very clear that the paintings were dedicated to a special individual." She gives him a considering look before adding on quietly, "he was very insistent that his celebration be held here."

Ignis flounders for the right words, because _special individual_.

_Noctis_ had said he was a _special individual_ , he-

"The paintings have been up for a year now," the docent continues with a slight smile, unaware of Ignis' internal turmoil, "but we don't receive much traffic and since the prince never publicised his involvement in the exhibit, few patrons were interested enough to stop by."

She gives Ignis another considering look. "That's why the prince wanted his coming of age celebration to be held here instead of the palace. I think he's been waiting for this individual for a long time."

Ignis feels faint of breath.

He thinks he thanks the girl before moving back into the hallway but everything is a blur until he finds himself standing in front of that painting of Noctis and himself as children.

He doesn't know what to think.

\---

"You are a very hard man to find."

Ignis startles at the voice, he'd been so engrossed with the painting that he hadn't heard anyone approaching. He makes as if to move out of the way and looks up to acknowledge his discourtesy, only to find himself staring into a pair of familiar blue eyes.

"Your Highness," Ignis manages to get out past his frozen lips, trying and failing to give an unaffected bow.

He doesn't respond to Noctis' earlier comment. No point in arguing with the crown prince after all, even if Ignis had remained in Lucis and within the high society's circles in hopes that Noctis will reach out to him.

_Hard man to find indeed._

But it is not his place and the prince can say what he likes to make himself feel better.

"What is your name?"

Ignis grits his teeth. He's not sure what game Noctis is playing at, pretending to not remember his name when he's painted so many damn paintings of Ignis. "Ignis Stupeo Scientia, your Highness."

"You have an accent," Noctis notes with apparent surprise and Ignis forces himself to give a small nod. They are no longer children but Ignis still feels slightly offended when reminded of his accent. He hears a sigh, and Noctis sounds frustrated when he speaks next. "Look me in the eyes Ignis."

Ignis does as commanded, trying to maintain the other's steady gaze. "Your Highness?"

This time, he sees the grimace that pulls at the corner of Noctis' mouth.

"I-" Noctis starts before he abruptly looks away at one of the paintings. He takes in a deep breath and visibly rethinks what he was about to say, "you weren't at last night's event."

"No, your Highness," Ignis agrees when the silence dragged on and it became apparent that Noctis was awaiting a reply.

He fidgets slightly when Noctis' gaze moves back to his face and Ignis was once again staring into those damnable blue eyes.

"Why not?"

"Regrettably, I had other duties which prevented me from attending."

"Which are more important than my birthday?"

Ignis gives Noctis a, frankly, disbelieving look, uncertain of how to interpret the petulant undertone in the other's voice. Eventually, when it once again became apparent that Noctis expected an actual reply, Ignis forces himself to respond, "my apologies, your Highness. But rest assured that I did ask the Duke LaFrabane to pass along my gift and best wishes."

"Ignis stop," snaps Noctis, "I don't need you to be so polite and distant, I just want to know why you weren't there last night. I had hoped that I'd see you and-" He stops himself.

Ignis waits.

Noctis continues quietly, eyes down, "I had hoped we'd reconnect."

"Reconnect?" repeats Ignis. He realizes dimly that he's angry, all the guilt and frustration he's been harbouring over the years are whirling inside him and it hurts.

The Caelum family _dismissed_ him.

Noctis is the one who **_never_** reached out to him, even though Ignis made it so damn _easy_.

And now he wants to reconnect, after he publicized Ignis' face to all of Lucis and made it seem as if Ignis is the one who rebuked his attentions.

"You-" starts Ignis indignantly, "how dare you."

He takes pleasure in the way that Noctis' head suddenly jerks up.

"I spent all these years waiting for you to acknowledge me and you, you-" he pauses to think of an appropriate word, "you arse, you never even looked my way. You never bothered to find me and now you want to reconnect?"

Ignis spares Noctic' wide blue eyes a brief glance and sneers. "I bet it was hilarious," he mutters darkly, "poor little Ignis can't move on. Staying in Lucis and maintaining a presence in high society just so he could be there in case you ever decide to acknowledge him again. What a fool."

He stops. He's said too much.

Ignis curls his fingers into fists.

He shouldn't have come.

Now he'll never have a chance to see that _stupid_ smile on Noctis' face, even from far away and-

_Oh,_ Ignis' eyes widen, the possibility of never seeing Noctis' smile again had hurt. _Of course,_ he thinks bitterly, _of course I would still miss him even though he proved himself to be an arsehole._

"I had an accident."

He hears Noctis say quietly but doesn't repress the snort, cruelly revelling in the way the prince flinches at the sound.

"No, Ignis, listen."

Ignis looks up at the sudden resolution in Noctis' voice.

"I lost some of my memories after my accident. I didn't remember anything from when I was younger."

Noctis' eyes are blue and earnest when Ignis meets his gaze.

"I asked my father but he said I didn't forget anything of importance, but I knew he was wrong-" Noctis frowns slightly, "I kept on dreaming of a boy."

"So I started painting the boy, because he kept on showing up in my dreams," Noctis continues, his voice solemn. "At first I wasn't very good and with my schedule, I had little time to practice," he admits with a rueful laugh, "it wasn't until a few years later that I was able to fully depict the boy in my dreams."

"At that point, my father was too busy with Niflheim and everyone else I asked could only remember what you looked like but never your name."

Ignis doesn't realize he's shaking until Noctis tentatively reaches out to grab onto one of his hands.

"Ignis," says Noctis, sounding every bit like the crown prince he's going to grow up to be.

Ignis looks up, helpless against that commanding voice.

"I wanted to find you sooner Ignis. I'm-" he pauses with a small frown before visibly forcing out the rest, "I'm sorry if you felt hurt by my alienation, but it was unintentional."

Ignis nods numbly and stares determinedly at their joined hands, fighting the dull flush that was slowly creeping up his neck.

"Ignis," now Noctis sounds exasperated, "will you look at me?"

_And that's the problem isn't it?_  Ignis thinks as he meets Noctis' surprisingly warm gaze.

Since their first meeting, he's never been able to look away.

\---

Ignis is eighteen when he meets Noctis for the second time.

It's awkward.

There's too much unspoken hurt between the two for them to properly have a conversation.

But Noctis persists.

And Ignis lets him.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, it became easier and easier to think of Noctis as a friend.

A friend with a surprisingly sweet smile and brilliant blue eyes.

He is introduced to Noctis' other friends and welcomed into the group with unexpected ease. He later learns that it's because Noctis was forever talking about the boy in his dreams, and the others are just glad they no longer have to lend a sympathetic ear.

Ignis is charmed when Noctis flushes an endearing red upon hearing that and tries to pull his hand away. Ignis holds on and sends the prince a small smile.

Noctis gives him a startlingly shy smile back.

Tentatively, Ignis allows himself to think that being this boy's friend _(special individual?)_ may not be the worst fate.

Not if he is able to see that smile more often.

**Author's Note:**

> First venture into the fandom so I'm rather uncertain about the characterization.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is welcomed and I would adore it if someone would be willing to ramble headcanons with me! :D


End file.
